


Now Imagine This: You and Me, and No Lies Between Us.

by gallantrejoinder



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Espionage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Loras Tyrell/Renly Baratheon, Corporate Espionage, F/F, Femlash, Five Times Plus One, Well technically speaking four times plus one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 15:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallantrejoinder/pseuds/gallantrejoinder
Summary: Based on thisTumblrprompt:Where are the fic where the super-slick super-spy is thwarted by their seduction target’s complete lack of self-esteem and inability to believe for one second that someone that hot wants to fuck them?Four times Margaery Tyrell tried and failed to seduce powerful corporate figure Brienne Tarth, and one time Brienne managed to seduce her instead.





	Now Imagine This: You and Me, and No Lies Between Us.

1.

 

Corporate espionage isn’t exactly the kind of work one comes by in the classified ads. For Margaery and Loras, it’s the family business, an inherited career from their grandmother. Garlan and Willas prefer to work in a more public capacity in terms of business, but Loras and Margaery, with their fey beauty and flirtatious, put-you-at-ease-before-robbing-you-blind demeanours, make for perfect spies in the corporate world. CEOs are always so damned egotistical.

Lately, Olenna’s brokered a deal with Lannister Corp. Margaery doesn’t know all the details, as Olenna likes to play her cards close to her chest, even within her own family. But Margaery does know her part in the deal.

A simple mission: seduce Brienne Tarth, the right-hand woman of Renly Baratheon, potential heir to Baratheon enterprises – and extract as much information as she can.

Loras’s mission is similar, though perhaps a little more high-stakes – he has to seduce Renly himself. It shouldn’t be difficult. Renly’s well known for his fondness towards pretty boys like Loras.

That’s why both he and Margaery are dressed to the nines tonight.

Margaery has opted for green, because seductress-red seemed a little too on the nose. Still, the gown is silky-smooth and skin-tight, revealing quite a bit of leg _and_ cleavage. Olenna tutted when she saw it, because she may be an internationally-known borderline criminal, but she’s still Margaery’s grandmother. Yet even she had to admit that the dress does its job splendidly.

Loras, meanwhile, has opted for a shirt whose poor buttons are, to put it delicately, distressed. He’s indulged in just a little make-up, too, though he wrinkled his nose at the sensation – for all his prettiness, Loras isn’t actually fond of more feminine fashion.

They make a picture-perfect pair, the two of them. At least they would, if the picture was to be displayed in a racy fashion magazine shoot. The kind that causes an uptick in sales for the whole month.

As they enter the event – a charity auction? Some corporate anniversary? Sometimes she loses track between them – Margaery squeezes Loras’s elbow once and smiles encouragingly at him. He smiles back, before they part ways, without speaking a word to each other. After several years at it, they don’t need to anymore.

Margaery smiles coquettishly and flirts here and there, making herself acquainted with the guests. She hasn’t spotted Brienne, or Renly for that matter, but it’s not unusual for such illustrious invitees to be late. In fact, Margaery’s almost come to expect it.

Half an hour or so goes by while she waits, sipping on a flute of champagne. She’s careful, of course, never to have more than one – two if she must – because her slight stature, unfortunately, makes her an absurd lightweight. But soon enough, her glass only half empty, the target finally appears, entering with Renly Baratheon himself.

Brienne Tarth looks … in a word, uncomfortable. She’s wearing a dress of some ghastly shade of pink, completely unsuited to both her stature and pale, freckled skin. That’s nothing, however, compared to the miserable expression on her face.

Well. Margaery is nothing if not good for a pick-me-up, with targets like these. Though, judging by Brienne’s muscles, Margaery’s beginning to think that Brienne could pick _her_ up. Perhaps that’s the way to go – helpless girl needing a big, strong knight to save her from her own silliness. Given that Brienne’s so reclusive and Margaery has so little intel to go on, she’ll gamble on it.

She waits for Renly and Brienne to get separated by the crowd before moving towards her, staying out of her line of sight. When the moment’s right, she stumbles – hard, and directly into Brienne.

“Oh, my goodness! I am _so_ sorry, I’m so clumsy – are you okay?” Margaery gasps and flutters about with a napkin, having intentionally spilled the remainder of her champagne.

“No, no – I should have seen you there,” Brienne says, her hoarse voice surprisingly quiet.

Margaery times it just right – looking up into Brienne’s eyes just as Brienne looks into hers.

And good _gracious_ , they are blue.

Margaery lets herself go wide-eyed, using her puppy-dog brown eyes to best effect. “… Oh, um. I’m Rose,” she says, holding out a hand to be kissed.

Only, well – Brienne shakes it.

… _Okay_.

“I’m Brienne, Brienne Tarth. I’m with Baratheon Enterprises,” Brienne offers, smiling politely, though still a little stiffly.

Margaery giggles, leaning in close. “Wow, _really_? Gosh, they’re in all the papers right now, aren’t they?”

“Afraid we are, yes,” Brienne says, bowing her head a little – looking away from Margaery’s eyes.

When she doesn’t say anything further, Margaery surreptitiously begins to run a finger along the seam of her dress, down her cleavage. “I don’t really _get_ all that stuff, you know? I’m more of a fashion girl at heart. I model, see?” Margaery twirls slowly, encouraging Brienne to take a good look.

Look she does, but … Still no spark of recognition at Margaery’s blatant flirting, let alone any flirting back. Actually, Brienne looks rather sad. “I never understood fashion, so we’re even.”

“Really? But you look gorgeous in that dress!” Margaery lies.

“You don’t have to lie,” Brienne says, self-deprecatingly.

… Margaery may have gone about this wrong.

“I’m not lying, honestly!” Margaery responds, quickly.

Brienne chuckles, a little sadly, and shakes her head. “No, it’s all right. Renly – my boss – convinced me to wear it. I wish I’d just come in a shirt and tie instead. Dresses never fit me, they just make me uncomfortable.”

“I’d … I’d love to see you in a shirt and tie,” Margaery scrambles to respond, surprised to find that it’s true.

“Maybe next time,” Brienne says, before smiling tightly and nodding to her. “It was nice to meet you.”

Only several years of careful training stop Margaery’s jaw from dropping at Brienne’s total obliviousness. “Wait – you’re not going to dance?” she asks desperately, indicating the small dancefloor and stage set up in the centre of the room.

Brienne shakes her head. “Maybe next time!” she calls out, by way of farewell.

And that’s that. Margaery can’t seem to find her for the rest of the night, so she’s stuck watching Loras pull off what must be all of espionage history’s most successful seduction, grinding on Renly shamelessly.

Margaery goes home alone, Loras heading off with Renly, and wonders where she went wrong.

 

2.

 

The second time Margaery runs into Brienne Tarth, it’s no more an accident than the first.

Loras’s relationship with Renly appears to be going swimmingly – Margaery of course doesn’t care for all the details, but she’s well aware that her brother is most certainly getting more than she is these days.

After a little digging, however, she’s managed to discover a habit of Brienne’s. Every day, Brienne heads down from the top floors of the Baratheon building, walks to the nearest riverside park, and sits in the park café to drink tea and watch the ducks on the waterfront. That is where Margaery plans to _accidentally_ run into her for lunch.

Once more, everything seems to go well at first. Margaery’s dressed much more casually this time – less seductress, more cute, indie-band-obsessed Instagram model. She instantly steps in line behind Brienne while Brienne orders her tea – English breakfast, milk and one sugar – before ordering herself. When she turns to wait, she gasps loudly from behind Brienne.

“Oh my gosh, Brienne? Is that you?”

Brienne stiffens before turning, a detail that Margaery does not miss, filing it away for later analysis. When she sees Margaery, she looks confused for a moment, before recognising her and blushing. It’s adorable.

“Uh – hi, Rose. Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Brienne says, hunching her shoulders awkwardly.

“I work just nearby! How funny – I was _so_ hoping I’d see you again. You ran off so quickly the other night,” Margaery says, allowing herself to look concerned.

“Just wasn’t feeling it,” Brienne says shortly, raising hand to rub at the back of her neck.

“Well, let me make it up to you,” Margaery says, clapping her hands together. “Let’s have lunch – are you free now?”

“Now?”

“Sure! We’re both here, aren’t we?”

“Well, I- I suppose,” Brienne says hesitantly.

“Then it’s a date,” Margaery says, clasping Brienne’s arm and smiling prettily up at her.

But Brienne doesn’t look down at her, only quietly thanking the barista for her tea and waiting while Margaery takes hers.

They find a table near the waterfront, just the way Brienne likes it. Margaery’s just about to speak when Brienne interrupts her.

“I love to watch the ducks,” she says, smiling quietly. It’s about the only offer of conversation she makes, every other word drawn out by Margaery over the course of the next hour.

At the end of the hour, having exhausted every conversational avenue she can think of and having made _several_ implications of her interest in banging Brienne harder than a screen-door in a hurricane, Margaery has nothing to show for it but the knowledge that:

  * Brienne does weight training at a local gym. (“What a coincidence – I go there too!” Margaery lies through her teeth.)
  * Brienne doesn’t like the colour pink, but does like the colour navy blue. (“Oh, wow, navy blue is _so_ in right now. You have great taste!”)
  * Brienne has absolutely no idea what work goes into modelling, which is good, because Margaery has to make up some of what she tells her. (“Uh, and the other day, this rando photographer literally painted me gold, it was weird.”)



All in all, if Margaery were seeking to make a casual acquaintance, she’d call it a success. But she’s trying to _seduce_ the woman, for pity’s sake, not bond over ducklings. When Brienne rises from her chair at the end of her lunch break, smiles, and thanks Margaery for her time before leaving quickly, it’s nearly enough to make Margaery despair.

She’s going to have to up the ante.

 

3.

 

The third time Margaery seeks out Brienne, she is determined to get her 100% non-platonic, completely carnal, _deeply_ sexual interest in her established beyond any shadow of a doubt.

That’s why she’s decided to show up during one of Brienne’s gym sessions in a sports bra, tiny gym shorts, and little else.

A gym session is an excellent opportunity for a seduction, despite the sweaty surroundings. People’s hearts are pumping, their endorphins are going mad, and much of the equipment in a gym is practically _designed_ to show off one’s best assets.

But apparently no one told Brienne Tarth that.

It’s not that she doesn’t look good – she does. Maragaery has to stop her eyes bulging out a little at the sight of Brienne’s muscular arms lifting weights that, upon closer inspection, confirm that Brienne could probably bench-press her. And Brienne makes it look _effortless_ , too.

But it’s the expression on her face, pure determination – completely business-like and utterly uninterested in Margaery doing her stretches on the other side of the room, that makes Margaery despair. She’s been bending all the way over and back again, practically pulling her legs behind her ears, and Brienne hasn’t even glanced over, only reddening slowly from exertion as she continues to lift.

Margaery sighs.

She walks over, letting her hips sashay just a little.

“Hey,” she says, smiling.

“Hi,” Brienne replies, looking strained.

“You’re really strong, you know.” Margaery smiles at her, curving her lips and lowering her eyelashes.

Brienne abruptly sets the barbell down, and stands, looking uncomfortable.

“I- I have to go,” she stutters. “I have a thing.”

And with that, she’s gone.

Margaery has to resist the urge to lie down and scream. And not even from normal frustration – from actual, real, not-even-faked _sexual_ frustration.

What has she got herself into?

 

4.

 

The fourth time Margaery meets Brienne, she’s officially no longer mission-critical. They’ve already got all the intel they need from Loras, who’d looked troubled to give it, but gave it nonetheless. So there’s no real reason for Margaery to be here. No reason to keep trying, when Brienne’s clearly too shy to even begin to be interested.

But Margaery is here.

And so is Brienne, dressed formally in a shirt and pressed trousers, seeming more comfortable in herself, yet … still retiring. Still unable to socialise like her boss. She’d left for the balcony running around the building, over the water, five minutes ago. Margaery hasn’t followed her yet. She wants to.

After deliberating for a few more minutes, Margaery decides she has nothing to lose.

Stepping out onto the balcony, she ignores the passing glances at her appearance in the realm of lonely people and trysting couples. She only has eyes for the tall blonde figure stand at the corner of the building, staring out across the water unhappily.

“Hi,” Margaery says, softly. She uses her own voice for the short word, for once in her life.

Brienne turns, curious, before recognising Margaery. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly – if Margaery were not trained in recognising microexpressions, she would never have noticed.

“Rose,” Brienne says, nodding. “We keep running into each other.”

Margaery lets herself smile, just a little. “Well. I may have been trying to make it happen, once or twice.”

Brienne blinks. “Really?”

“What can I say? You’re an interesting woman, Brienne Tarth,” Margaery admits.

“Right.”

Margaery steps closer, joining Brienne against the railing. The moon is waning tonight, but the stars reflect in the water, along with lights from the city. The cold air makes Margaery shiver.

“Tell me,” Margaery says, abruptly, “How did you get involved with Renly’s company? You don’t seem like the business type.”

Brienne smiles sadly, as if she cannot help but be self-deprecating. “Oh, it’s a long story. I had a bit of hero-worship going on. I even thought I was in love at one point. He’s very good at making people fall in love with him – but he lets me do the work my way, so I can’t complain.”

“I take it nothing ever came of that love, then?” Margaery says, raising an eyebrow even though her heart is sinking.

Brienne snorts. “Oh, gods no. He’s quite obviously gay. Everyone knows. And I think … I don’t know. I’m not sure it was really love. Since then I’ve always thought …”

“What?”

“Apart from Renly, it’s much nicer to be around women. Safer, I mean. But also just …”

“Nicer,” Margaery finishes for her. “Yes. I know what you mean.”

She really does. Dozens of seductions and a hundred more flirtations, and women are almost always the ones she’s more comfortable with.

“You work with men too, though,” Brienne says. “If you model, at least. I hear the industry’s rife with men trying to use women like dolls.” She wrinkles her nose with distaste.

Margaery winces. “Well … I wouldn’t know, truth be told. I may have fibbed, about modelling. I’m actually more in a sort of family business.”

“Oh! Oh, right,” Brienne says, looking embarrassed.

“It’s fine though,” Margaery hurries to add. “I’m used to it.”

“But –” Brienne stops, biting her lip. Margaery nods at her to continue, curious to see what she’ll say. “Is it what you _want_ to do?”

Margaery gapes in amazement at her. This _woman_.

She doesn’t know how to answer.

“I’m not sure,” she admits, finally.

“I hope you find something, then,” Brienne says, kindly. “You … You could do anything you put your mind to. I can tell.”

Margaery’s stomach swoops, and she thinks, _oh no_.

She makes her excuses within minutes, even though she wants to stay with Brienne. Her heart is too well-guarded to be entirely vulnerable just yet. But even that brief flash of dizziness, that sudden skip in the beat, is too much for her right now. She needs to leave.

 

5.

 

“Sis, we’ve got to talk.”

Loras’ voice is nervous, but determined too. Margaery can read him in an instant. She settles back into the couch in her modest but stylish living room, and crosses her legs. Narrowing her eyes at him, she nods for him to continue.

He twists his hands. “I’m out of the game. I’ve come clean to Renly, about the whole thing. I’m not going to do this anymore, no matter what Grandmother threatens.”

Margaery just looks at him for a moment, before calmly saying, “So. It’s love, is it?”

He nods, still looking afraid. They’ve done all of this together, their spying and their lying and their tricks. It can’t be easy for him to admit to her that he wants to leave it behind.

Margaery leans forward, her face carefully blank. Finally, she opens her mouth.

“Oh, thank all the gods above,” she breathes, “Me too.”

He blinks. “What, really?”

Margaery nods. “Yeah. I’m having the same problem.”

“… You’re in _love_?” Loras looks thunderstruck.

Well, it’s true, she’s always been the more pragmatic of the two.

But she lets herself smile a _real_ smile, a shy one, and nods.

His face breaks into an even wider grin, and without warning, he leaps over the coffee table to tackle-hug her, exclaiming at the unexpectedness of it all. Margaery laughs, and the two of them are just about useless for the next few minutes with giggling.

Finally, they settle back down, Loras’ arm thrown around Margaery’s shoulders in a comforting gesture.

“Are you going to tell her?” Loras asks.

Margaery pauses before answering. She shakes her head, swallowing the tiny lump in her throat.

“No. She doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Loras looks dubious. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I tried everything. She’s not interested, and way too shy anyway …”

“… Hmm,” Loras says, sounding thoughtful.

Little does Margaery know, however, that that simple hum should have been a clue to her about her brother’s intentions. Because that night, after he leaves to see Renly, there’s a knock at her door.

She glances up at it, curious. No one knows about this apartment outside of a very select group of trusted family members. Getting up to look through the peephole, she blanches when she realises it’s _Brienne_ outside her door.

Her hand nearly slips on the handle of the door with sudden clamminess when she opens it. Brienne’s expression is hard to read. It could bode well. It could possibly bode terribly. Either way, Margaery’s totally forgotten how to read faces in the shock of seeing Brienne _here_.

“Hi,” Brienne greets her with.

“Hi,” Margaery says back, in a high-pitched tone.

“Um, so. I’m just going to come right out and say it. Loras and Renly basically told me everything.”

“I see,” Margaery replies coolly, drastically revising her good opinion of her brother.

Brienne hastily continues. “And at first it was really hard to understand, I mean, I had no idea you and he were like – spies, or … whatever it is you do. I was kind of angry, at first, and so was Renly, apparently. But then …”

Margaery’s eyes bore into Brienne’s face, trying to understand what it is she’s trying to say.

Brienne takes a deep breath, though her eyes are still on the ground.

“Then Loras explained. He said that you wanted to come clean to me, but you were afraid to, and you thought – that I didn’t –” Brienne looks up. “I might … be misinterpreting, but if he was saying what I think he was saying, and if you really do want to give the whole honesty thing a shot … I … Can I just kiss you?”

For once, Margaery is speechless. She nods.

Brienne wastes no time, taking Margaery’s waist in her hands and pulling her in, kissing her with a sudden passion that Margaery never, _ever_ would have imagined in her. Margaery finds herself relaxing into the kiss so deeply she’s almost afraid she’ll melt into the floor – but Brienne’s strong hands are holding her up, and she knows she has nothing to fear.

Brienne pulls back, and her eyes are wide. Margaery only notices after a few moments – dazed as she is, her eyes remained closed longer.

“I don’t even know your name,” Brienne whispers.

“Margaery,” Margaery replies, without hesitation. “My name is Margaery.”

“Nice you meet you, Margaery,” Brienne smiles, bashfully.

Margaery answers her with another kiss, and another, pulling Brienne inside her apartment where, finally, they can get to know one another with no lies between them – only honesty, and patience, and love.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually had this one in the works for a while, nearly abandoned it entirely! Let me know what you thought, I thrive on any comments. <3
> 
> [My Tumblr.](https://gallantrejoinder.tumblr.com/)


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